“What did he know?” Bulard asked, tense but fascinated. Grady and Derning also leaned forward.
“You knew I was elven, didn’t you? But you told her—no, coerced her—to do a reading,” Royce said.
Outside, there were sounds of commotion, running feet and raised voices. Hadrian heard Wesley saying something over the heated shouts of Tenkins.
“Why did you want her dead?”
“I did nothing. You are the one that killed her. And killing a member of the village, especially a seer, is an unpardonable crime. The punishment is death.” Zulron gave a smile before stepping outside.
The rest of them followed to find a gathering crowd.
“There he is!” Thranic shouted the moment Royce stepped out of the tree. He pointed and said, “There’s your elf! I warned you about him.”
“He has slain our seer, Fan Irlanu!” Zulron announced, and repeated it in Tenkin.
Burandu, Wesley, and Wyatt pushed their way through the mob.
“Is this true?” Wesley asked quickly, his voice nervous.
“Which?” Royce asked.
“Are you an elf, and did you just kill Fan Irlanu?”
“Yes, and I’m not sure.”
The crowd grew and Hadrian could pick out words such as justice, revenge, and kill among the many Tenkin shouts.
“By Mar, man!” Wesley said fiercely but quietly to Royce. “What is it with you? I should let you hang just for the amount of trouble you’ve caused.” He took a breath. The crowd pressed in. Lightning flashed overhead while thunder boomed. “What do you mean when you say you’re not sure?” Wesley asked. He was speaking quickly, wiping the rain from his face.
“The murderer must pay for his crime, Burandu,” Zulron declared in Tenkin. “His soullessness has killed our beloved Fan Irlanu. The law demands justice!”
“Where is Joqdan?” Burandu asked.
“Paying his last respects to his dead would-be wife. If he was here, he would agree.”
“He lies! Zulron is to blame.” Hadrian spoke in Tenkin, which drew surprised looks from everyone.
“What are they saying?” Wesley asked Hadrian.
“The oberdaza is pushing for our deaths and Burandu is buying it.”
“Bring them all!” Burandu shouted.
The warriors of the village descended. Hadrian considered for a moment whether he should draw his swords, but decided against it. He shot a look at Royce to indicate he should not resist.
They were driven to the village center, where Dilladrum was shouting, “Let go of me! What are you doing?” When he saw Wesley, he asked, “What did you do? I told you not to offend them!”
“We didn’t offend them,” Hadrian explained. “We killed their beloved seer.”
“What!” Dilladrum looked as if he was about to faint.
“Actually, it is a misunderstanding, but I am not sure we will get the chance to explain,” Wesley put in.
“At least Thranic will die with us,” Royce said loud enough for the sentinel to hear.
“A martyr’s death is a fair price to rid the world of you and your kind.”
Lightning flashed again, revealing the pallid faces of the crew in its stark light.
Grady was shoved to the ground, and he moved his hand toward his sword.
“Grady, don’t!” Hadrian said.
“That is right,” Wesley shouted. “No one draw weapons. They will slaughter us.”
“They will anyway,” Derning replied.
Poe and Hadrian pulled Grady back to his feet. All around them the ring of warriors formed a wall, behind which churned a crowd of shouting faces and raised fists. The rain-drenched mob pushed and cried, its words lost in a roar of hatred. Lightning flashed once more, and a single voice rang out, “You knew!”
Instantly the crowd fell silent and parted. Only the sound of rain disturbed the stillness as Fan Irlanu entered the circle. Joqdan, at her side, carried a deadly-looking spear, his eyes grim and focused on Zulron.
“Burandu, it is not the stranger’s fault. It was Zulron who asked that I do the reading. He knew this one had elven blood. But I am still alive!”
“But—no … How could you …” Zulron stammered.
“He is not an Old One,” Fan Irlanu said. “He is a kaz! There is humanity in him—footholds, Zulron, footholds!”
“What’s going on?” Wesley asked Hadrian. “Isn’t she the one Royce killed? What’s she saying?”
“She seems a mite upset,” Grady said.
“But not at Royce,” Poe remarked.
“Who, then?” Grady asked.
“Zulron has tried to kill me. I have known for some time his ambitions were great. I saw the treachery in his heart, but I never expected he would go so far.”
“Joqdan, what say you? Is what Fan Irlanu says true?” Burandu addressed his warlord.
Joqdan thrust his spear into the chest of Zulron.
The long blade passed fully through the oberdaza’s body. Those nearby jostled backward, everyone moving away. Joqdan advanced the length of his spear’s shaft and gripped Zulron by the throat. Holding him with strong arms, he spat in the witch doctor’s face. The light faded from the oberdaza’s eyes, and Joqdan withdrew his spear as Zulron fell dead.
“I think that answers your question,” Poe remarked.
Burandu looked down at the body, then up at Joqdan, and nodded. “Joqdan is never wrong. I am pleased you are safe, Fan Irlanu,” he said to her. Then the Elder addressed Wesley and the others. “Forgive the dishonor of evil Zulron. Judge us not by his actions. You too have such men in your world, eh?”
Wesley glanced at Thranic and Royce.
Burandu shouted to his warriors and they dispersed the crowd. Many paused to kiss Fan Irlanu, who stood weakly, leaning against Joqdan. She offered a strained smile, but Hadrian could see the paleness of her face and the effort in her breathing.
The Elder spoke briefly with Joqdan and Fan Irlanu, and then Joqdan lifted the seer once more and carried her to one of the smaller dwellings. Zulron’s body was dragged away and with him went most of the Tenkin.
“That’s it?” Grady asked.
“Wait,” Dilladrum said as the leopard-skinned man approached. They spoke for a moment, and then Dilladrum returned. “The village of Oudorro asks our forgiveness for the misunderstanding and begs the honor to continue as our host.”
They looked at one another skeptically.
“They are sincere.”
Wesley sighed and nodded. “Thank them for their kindness, but we will be leaving in the morning.”
“Kindness?” Derning muttered. “They nearly skinned us alive. We should get out now while we can.”
“I see no advantage in venturing into these jungles at night,” Wesley affirmed. “We will leave at first light.”
“And what about Melborn?” Thranic said.
“You, Dr. Levy, and Seamen Blackwater and Melborn will come with me. The rest I order to quarters to get as much sleep as possible.”
A young Tenkin trotted up to them and spoke to Dilladrum, his eyes watching Royce.
“What is it?” Wesley asked.
“Fan Irlanu has requested Royce and Hadrian.”
Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)
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